Children of Avalon Page 25

  “My, my lady,” the knight stammered, bowing to her. His eyes shifted to look around him but never moved very far, as if he were afraid to take them completely off her. Smart man.

  “Where am I? Where have you taken me?”

  Nimuë walked in a slow circle around the man. She had to admit that this was one of her better ideas. She had not taken Sir Dagonet anywhere—she could not, actually, and it was lovely he did not know that even after all this time. She, herself, could move like the wind, taking mere minutes to go someplace that would have taken days on horseback, but she could not move anyone else that way. No, she had simply surrounded them with a glamour that had blackened out everything around them, giving the impression they were someplace else—or nowhere at all.

  Nimuë could not help but laugh at her own cleverness.

  It had taken her over a full day of watching him and the children to figure out where they were—the river had helped a great deal. And then nearly another day to find Dagonet alone. But now, finally, she was going to find out what she needed to know.

  “Tell me where you are taking these children, and I will return you.” Direct and to the point. There was no reason not to be.

  Dagonet’s eyes widened for a moment, but his mouth stayed stubbornly closed.

  “Oh, please,” Nimuë said, “just say it and we can both get on with our lives in no time.” She paused and then added, “Or you can make this difficult and make me force the information out of you. But truly, I would prefer if you would just tell me.”

  The knight reached across his body, grasping at the empty space where his sword normally hung. But he had already taken it off for the day. Nimuë had, in fact, caught him just as he was getting himself washed and ready to go to sleep. He was clad only in his leggings and the plain rough cotton tunic he wore under his armor.

  He let out a frustrated grunt as he realized he was unarmed.

  “You are going to make this difficult,” Nimuë sighed. “It is really not very nice of you. Neither one of us is going to enjoy this. Will you not please reconsider? Note that I even said please.”

  Honestly, torture was so unpleasant. She did not enjoy it at all, even though, she had to admit, she was remarkably good at it.

  “I’ll not tell you!” Dagonet said, taking a wider stance and stretching to his full height, nearly a foot taller than herself.

  Nimuë almost laughed at his bravado. But no, it was not funny, she told herself. It was sad.

  She pointed at his head. “Let us see... your most terrifying experience,” she said, her voice laden with magic.

  The old knight’s eyes widened and began to bulge from his head. He dropped to his knees and his hands gripped themselves behind his back. He threw his head back as blood began to seep from a shallow cut that had just appeared across his throat.

  Shaking her head in wonderment, she just looked down at the knight at her feet. “Dagonet, let me stop it. Tell me where you are taking the children.”

  Dagonet pursed his lips together. His eyes were wide with fear, but still he said nothing.

  “Very well.” She closed her eyes for a moment and gathered together a small portion of her power. “We will add to this the saddest experience you have ever lived through.” She moved her fingers, directing her magical energy into his mind, forcing him to recall that heartrending moment in his life.

  Tears began to slide down the old man’s cheeks. Nimuë watched his mouth working to keep himself from sobbing like a child.

  “Tell me, for if you still refuse, we shall add to this your greatest fear. What is it, Dagonet? What do you fear more than anything else in this world? Your own death? Me?”

  The old man interrupted her musings. “Avalon,” he whispered. “I am taking them to Avalon.”

  Nimuë’s attention snapped back to the man at her feet and a slow burning began in the pit of her stomach. “Why? Is that where Merlin hid his chalice?”

  Dagonet tried to shake his head, but it was as if someone was holding it steady. He could just barely move it from side to side. “No. The Lady...Lady Morgan called for them.”

  The name exploded in her mind. Morgan! She should have known.

  As fury engulfed her, she let go of Dagonet’s mind and watched him fall onto his face. The world faded back into existence a moment before she flew off on the wind.

  <><><>

  “How dare you!” Nimuë said a moment later, appearing just behind her sister.

  Morgan spun around. She had been speaking with three of the priestesses of the isle on the green just outside of her own home. The evening, as always on Avalon, was perfect—crisp and clear with just a nip in the air to remind you of the oncoming winter.

  “Nimuë!” she exclaimed.

  She turned to the priestesses who had begun to back away from Nimuë the moment her name had been spoken. “We will continue this later,” Morgan said. The women nodded and bowed low to them both before walking away as quickly as they could.

  Morgan indicated her home. “Please, let us go inside where it is warm.”

  Her sister’s calm was almost more than Nimuë could bear, but she managed to hold on to her temper until they were alone in her sister’s sitting room.

  “How could you?” Nimuë growled out once again.

  “How could I what?” Morgan asked, feigning ignorance.

  “You know very well what. You called to them. Had Dagonet bring them here. How dare you interfere.”

  Morgan had the grace to stay quiet. She lowered her eyes to the ground. But then she turned and poured out a glass of wine from the decanter on the table next to her.

  Holding it out to her sister, Morgan said, “Honestly, Nimuë, you need to calm down.”

  Without a thought, Nimuë knocked the wine from her sister’s hand, sending the blood red liquid flying all over the low white cushioned chairs. “I do not want to calm down. You have explaining to do.” Nimuë did not take her eyes off her sister.

  Morgan lifted her chin a touch. “Very well. I could not let you kill them. I told you when we spoke that I could not, but I knew you would try to do so anyway. So I called them here—where I can protect them.”

  “Protect them? You think to protect these...”

  “Yes, Nimuë. I am planning to do so. Not only that, but it is imperative that I do.” Morgan’s temper was beginning to flare as well. It was not a common occurrence, and Nimuë felt a brief shiver of pride at having provoked it.

  “It is only imperative for you to take from me from everything I most want,” Nimuë said, feeling her old anger growing inside her. “You have always done so—two hundred years have not changed anything.”

  Morgan let out an exasperated sigh. “You know that is not true. I have not interfered in your life for all this time, have I? I have let you play your little games with the king, and whoever else you have wanted to manipulate.”

  “Then why are you bothering me now?” Nimuë cringed inwardly as she heard the plaintive childlike tone of her voice.

  “Because this is important, Nimuë. The Children of Avalon are our future. I cannot simply allow you to kill them.”

  “Our future? You mean your future. It is I who they are destined to kill, did you think about that? Do you even care if I die?”

  “Of course I do. I care a great deal,” Morgan said, taking a step toward her.

  “Then why do you want to protect them? If you truly cared about me—if you loved me—you wouldn’t be protecting them, but helping me to kill them. For if I do not kill them, they are going to kill me!”

  “I know that, and it saddens me more than I can say...”

  Nimuë scoffed at her sister’s false words. “Lies! What lies!”

  Morgan’s face grew troubled. Why? Because she was telling the truth, or because Nimuë had seen through her false words?

  “I am sorry you think so,” Morgan said quietly.

  “Stay out of this, Morgan,” Nimuë warned her. “And stay away from those children.�
�

  And with that she turned and left her sister’s home. Fury and hurt warred within Nimuë as she stalked down to her precious lake.

  Her sister was doing what she always did—had always done. She was consolidating her own power and making sure Nimuë did not get any. It was so clear. And so painful.

  Morgan wanted to have the powerful Children of Avalon under her sway. She would have control over them, their powers, and the chalice—and through them, Morgan Le Fey would once again be the most powerful being in the world.

  In a fit of anger, Nimuë dove into the crystal clear water of the lake and turned it black. Wherever she swam, she left the ice–cold water surrounding her black and dead.

  Dead. That was how she wanted those children. Before Morgan could get a hold of them and Merlin’s chalice.

  Chapter Forty

  Sir Dagonet stepped out of the woods and just stood at the edge of the camp. It was such an odd thing for him to do that I paused in my work.

  And then I noticed he was shaking. I took a step closer and saw blood on his collar.

  “My God! Sir Dagonet, what happened?” I cried, rushing over to him.

  He just stood there, his cheeks completely drained of their color. Gently I guided him forward. His hands were like ice.

  “Bridget!” I called out as I led Sir Dagonet closer to the fire. I needn’t have, because Bridget was right there. I just hadn’t seen her come up from behind.

  “What is it, sir?” my sister asked, taking Sir Dagonet’s other hand.

  Still he said nothing.

  We seated him by the fire, and Dylan handed him a cup of wine to soothe his nerves. Dylan pulled me away and said quietly, “I’m going to take a look around. Don’t move away from here until I return, do you understand?”

  I nodded, feeling my muscles tightening in fear. He pulled his sword from his pack and stepped into the wood from where Sir Dagonet had come.

  Sir Dagonet had dropped his face into his hands while I had been speaking to Dylan. Bridget was holding his empty cup and kept a comforting hand on his back.

  “I can find nothing wrong with him—physically, that is,” she said, clearly worried. “If there’s something that’s bothering his mind, I can’t tell, I’m...I’m not good at that.”

  “Dylan is, but he’s just gone to see...”

  “There’s nothing there. She’s gone,” came an anguished whisper from Sir Dagonet.

  I turned back to the old man. “What do you mean ‘She’s gone’? Who was there?”

  “Lady Nimuë,” he whispered so softly I could barely hear him.

  But just at the name, Bridget jumped up and looked around as if she was about to appear right next to us.

  “Where was she, sir? What happened?” I asked, as I fought hard to keep from trembling.

  Sir Dagonet lifted his head and took a shaky breath. “She was there, in the woods. She, she...oh, God, what have I done!” His face dropped down once again into his hands.

  Dylan came back just then. “I couldn’t find anything or anyone. Whoever it was, they must be long gone.”

  “It was Lady Nimuë,” I told him.

  “What?” Dylan had just been about to put down his sword, but he took it right up again.

  “Sir Dagonet says she met him in the woods, but we don’t know what she did to him.”

  “Dylan, is there something you can do?” Bridget asked. She had returned to soothingly caressing Sir Dagonet’s back. I was surprised, first at Bridget speaking so nicely to Dylan, and second that she was trusting him to take care of Sir Dagonet.

  Dylan paused to look at Bridget and then looked down at the old man. He nodded. Putting aside his weapon once more, Dylan took my place on Sir Dagonet’s other side. He placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. Then he closed his eyes and concentrated.

  After a moment, Sir Dagonet let out a relieved sigh. He wiped his cheeks with a shaky hand as he looked up at the three of us. It was clear he was still very upset, but at least now he was able to look up.

  “Thank you,” he said, patting Dylan on his arm. “It’s horrible what she does to a man, don’t you know?”

  “No, I don’t know. Why don’t you tell us what happened?” Dylan suggested.

  Sir Dagonet shook his head. His fingers were fiddling with one another, those of his right hand disappearing up the other sleeve in his usual nervous habit. Finally, he gave a great sigh and said, “All I can tell you is that I’ve done a terrible thing.”

  “What?”

  “Told her where we were going,” he said, shame weighing down his words.

  The three of us sat there in silence, digesting this. I wasn’t entirely certain what it meant. So, Nimuë now knew we were going to Avalon. Did that make a difference? Surely, Lady Morgan would protect us?

  “Don’t you see, it’s now even more important that we find that chalice—before she does,” Sir Dagonet explained.

  “She’s going to try to find the chalice?” Bridget asked, with a bit of a squeak in her voice. “How could she do that? It’s not destined for her.”

  “Doesn’t matter. It’s got power, wot? That’s all she cares about, don’t you know?”

  We all turned toward Bridget. She was the only one who could help us to find the chalice. She had the answer in her dream, if she would only let Dylan in to find it.

  “It’s the three of you who will be most in danger if she finds it before you do,” Sir Dagonet said, his face more serious than I had ever seen it. “She’ll have Merlin’s power, and she won’t hesitate to use it to kill you.”

  I looked at Dylan, but there was no comfort coming from him. It was a stark truth Sir Dagonet shared. One that couldn’t be denied.

  “You need to work together,” Sir Dagonet continued. “You need to be a team. No more of this not trusting one another.” He looked at Bridget. “And no favoritism as best as you can help it.” He looked from me to Dylan. “I know there are feelings here. Deep feelings, but you have to work together, the three of you. No matter what. You must have each other’s back and support each other in every way possible. If you don’t...”

  “There is no question, sir,” Dylan said without hesitation. “Together we will fight or together we will fall.”

  It sounded like something Dylan had learned when he’d trained to be a knight, but it was the truth. It was the way we had to live. I knew it. Recognized it.

  And so did Bridget. She sighed and nodded her head. “All right, Dylan.”

  Dylan reached out and gave her arm a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “I will look to see where these trees are and that is all, I promise.”

  I cleared my throat. I should probably have done this in private, but it seemed that now nothing was private. “Dylan, I think we should put... whatever it is we have aside.”

  Dylan looked at me, his eyes straying momentarily to Sir Dagonet and Bridget. No, he was not happy to have this discussion in front of them, I knew it. But I’d started it, and so I would finish it.

  “After the chalice is found and Nimuë is taken care of, we’ll have the rest of our lives to... do whatever we want. But if we don’t deal with Nimuë first...” I paused and tried to put this into words he’d understand. “We started on a quest. We can’t let anything... anything distract us from it until it’s completed.” I looked at him, sadness filling my heart. It wasn’t easy, and it wouldn’t be easy being so close to him and yet unable to do anything more, or to be anything more than just friends, but it was essential. I knew this. I just hoped Dylan would recognize it, too.

  When Dylan nodded his head in acceptance, I released the breath I’d been holding. “You’re right.” He shifted once again to look at Bridget. “There will be no favoritism. No... anything until we find the chalice and defeat Nimuë.”

  Sir Dagonet let out a satisfied sigh. “Good decision.”

  <><><>

  I had hoped to be awake when Dylan went into Bridget’s dream, so I could watch him and find out where we would have to go
.

  But when I opened my eyes it was to the bright morning sunshine. I sat up immediately. I had moved back to sleeping closer to my sister. Sleeping so close to Dylan would have just been cruel—to both of us.

  Bridget was just lying back under her blanket, staring up into the trees.

  “Well? Did Dylan go into your dream? Do we know where the chalice is?” I asked.

  Bridget turned her head toward me. “I don’t know really. I mean, I saw him there in my dream, but then he walked off while I stayed with the trees, following the branches through to the chalice as I have every night. I suppose you’ll have to ask him.”

  I turned to look for him, but he was nowhere in sight. For a panicked moment, I wondered if perhaps he had left again. But then I saw his horse nibbling at the grass, and relaxed.

  A few minutes later when he came out of the woods, I got up. “So? Do you know where we need to go?”

  “Yes. We need to head due west from here to reach the shore. From there it shouldn’t be too far,” he said, giving me a smile. “It’s very close to a jut of land that sticks out a bit into the water.”

  “Remembered the jut of land,” Sir Dagonet said, joining us. “Just didn’t remember where it was.”

  “Have you been there, sir?” I asked.

  “Oh, yes. It’s from a little village there that I have taken the boat to Avalon.”

  “So this tree is, in fact, very close to the island?” Dylan asked.

  “Should be, wot?” Sir Dagonet smiled. “Merlin must have chosen it because of that. Very fond of the island, he was, don’t you know?”

  I was so relieved to see Sir Dagonet back to his old self again that I laughed at his silliness. “Yes, I suppose he would be, since that was where Lady Nimuë lived and they were very close at one time, weren’t they?”

  Sir Dagonet winked at me. “Just so. Just so.”

  As we mounted our horses, even Sir Dagonet’s optimism had returned. “We’ll get there long before Lady Nimuë even figures out where we’re headed, wot, wot?”

  “That’s right, sir,” Dylan agreed, but the look I saw in his eyes didn’t seem to be quite as optimistic.